Unexpected Surprises
by EB91
Summary: After a very drunken one night stand, Mark faces the challanges of raising a child on his own. Rating changed to T. Warning - Brief sex in the beginning. Everything belongs to Jonathan Larson, minus characters I created.
1. Chapter 1

"Mmm...Oh God..." a deep, slurred moan escaped from Mark's throat as the girl he was ramming into writhed beneath him into throes of orgasm. Eyes tightly shut, he came not too long after, crashing down on her, both attempting to regain control of their breathing. After a few moments, he pulled out of her and lay on his back. He ran a hand through his hair. _'I'm...so...tired...'_ he had never remembered ever being so tired in his life...or being that drunk, either. Soon, his thinking resided as the girl nestled up to him, and they both fell asleep.

The next morning he woke up to the harsh sounds of street cars and sirens. He opened his eyes only to find an unholy light shining right at him. It seemed as if it was magnified by twenty – the sun's way of saying never to drink again.

He shut his eyes quickly and sat up, searching for his glasses, only to be introduced to a pounding pain in his head.

"Uggghhhh..." he moaned, grabbing his head with both of his hands. '_I'm never drinking again..._' Unenthusiastically, he went back to groping the bed for his glasses. When he finally felt them, he shoved them back onto his face and looked around. He found himself not in the comfort of his own room in the loft, but some new room, a new place completely.

'_What the hell happened last night??_' he thought as he got up and was greeted once more by that pounding sensation in his head. He looked around for his clothes. All he could find were his boxers and jeans, and put them on.

As he made his way out of the room and down a short hallway, he looked around, trying to remember something – anything – from the previous night. Nothing.

When he got to the end of the hall, he stopped and looked around, listening for any sign as to whether there was any other life in the apartment or not. When he heard nothing, he decided to take a right turn, and saw a girl sitting at her kitchen table, eyes closed, massaging her temples. She had the most vibrant natural red hair he had ever seen. There was a steaming cup of coffee – black – in front of her, probably an attempt to relieve the symptoms of a bad hangover.

"Hey..." he said tentively from the doorway, not sure who she was. Surprised, she jumped a little, took her hands off her face and focused her eyes on Mark.

"Hey..." she quickly darted her eyes away from Mark and to the table, hands shyly folded in her lap.

There was an awkward and drawn out silence. Mark shifted his weight and looked around the kitchen. It was a mess – papers covered the floor, picture frames knocked over on a counter, and...his shirt? And scarf? And coat, too? In messy piles near her couch. His eyes widened.

"Uhh..." he said, his heart starting to race, his eyes going back to the redhead. "Do you remember last night?" He asked. She shook her head, still not looking at him. "Did we uhh...d-did...did we do anything?" He asked quietly, getting nervous. She looked up at him finally. She slightly shrugged, and quietly said, "I...I think so."

Mark was afraid of that answer. He always told himself and others that he wouldn't be that drunk guy out having sex with all the girls. A little twinge of guilt sprang up inside him.

"Did we...use protection?" he said quietly, a lump forming in his throat.

There was a silence that followed his question. Still standing in the doorway, his eyes were focused on her. The silence seemed to go on forever.

"I..." she said, looking up at him with a pained expression, "I...don't know." she managed to whisper.

He closed his eyes and swallowed, hard. Another answer he was afraid to hear. '_Great._' he thought, bringing his hand up to his head to massage it, as if that would bring back some recollection of the previous night. _'Not only do I get drunk and fuck a girl, but we're not even sure if I wore a fucking condom! For all I know, I could've knocked her up. Or gotten STD's, one of which I hope to God I don't get..._'

"What's your name?" her soft voice broke the silence.

"What?" he asked, snapping back to reality.

"What is your name?" she repeated.

"Oh. It's Mark. Mark Cohen." he said, looking at her. She nodded and looked at her coffee.

"I'm Abby, by the way. Abby Parker." she told him after a moment. She gave him an awkward smile, which he returned.

"So...do you want anything? Coffee? Cereal? Eggs?" she started getting up.

"Oh, no, I'm fine, thanks..." he said, massaging his forehead again, stepping out of the doorway. Food didn't seem like it would agree with his stomach, and he wasn't one much for coffee.

"Oh, okay..." she said, still standing.

He went to the couch and noticed the magazines from her coffee table were scattered on the floor.

'_Some night._' he thought, picking up his belongings and putting them on. _'Too back I can't remember it..._' Once he had his clothes on, and his scarf was in hand, he went to the table where she was watching him.

"Umm...can we trade information, you know, just in case..." he trailed off, assuming she'd think different than him.  
"Sure." she answered, and got paper and a pen out. They wrote down their names, addresses, and phone numbers and handed them to each other.

"Thanks." He said, and put the folded piece of paper in the breast pocket of his coat. She merely nodded in response. She walked him silently to the door. When they got there, she opened the door for him. Right before he left, he stopped and looked at her.

"Well, umm..." he thought of what to say. _"Thanks?" "See ya?"  
_"Maybe some other time." he settled on, and forced an awkward smiled.

She forced one back.

"Bye..."  
"Bye..." The door closed.

As Mark made his way back to the loft, he let out deep breaths, and kept massaging his now pounding head. There was no way Roger was going to believe any of this.


	2. Chapter 2

The coffee pot wailed, breaking the silence that filled the loft. Mark quickly got up from the couch and ran to the stove. It was only seven in the morning, and if it woke Roger this early, he'd have to deal with his moodiness all day. He took the pot off the burner and turned it off, then placed the pot back down.

He loved mornings like these – being the only one awake, sunlight filling his peaceful home. As he walked over to the cabinet, he looked out the window. Sunshine was all around. People were out and about, walking to their destinations. It was a beautiful day ahead. Mark smiled and inhaled deep as he opened the cabinet and pulled a mug out for his tea.

As soon as he shut the cabinet, there was a loud knocking at the door of the loft. Mark craned his head over to the door; brow furrowed, he froze for a second.

'_Who the hell is here?_' he thought when there was more knocking. '_And why so early?_' he placed his empty mug down on the big steel table and quietly walked over to the door, knowing that if he stalled any longer, Roger would be threatening to kill the person at the door with a steak knife.

When he opened the door, he found a mess of brilliant red curls atop a woman who looked like she hadn't slept in days. Mark recognized her at once: it was the woman he had had a one night stand with almost one year prior. He couldn't remember a thing about that night, but he remembered that crazy hair.

His heart started to race. He hadn't spoken to her since that awkward morning. He put a hand behind his head and scratched his neck. '_This is going to be awkward..._' he thought.

"Hi...how are y – " he began to say, but he was quickly cut off by her, flinging a huge pastel blue bag onto his shoulder, and shoving a thick folder into his hands. Caught off guard, Mark almost lost his balance and dropped the folder, papers flying all over the floor. Mark quickly bent down to pick them up.

"I can't handle it anymore!" she exclaimed in a panicked tone, shoving a large baby carrier over. Mark froze, crouched down, looking at it. His eyes widened and he froze what he was doing. His stomach flipped inside him.

"What – ?" he said at last, keeping his eye on the sleeping baby.

"I can't do it! I just..." she said, crying. "I just can't. I can't handle it!" she sobbed and turned on her heel to go, covering her tear-streaked face with her hands.

All of a sudden, Mark realized what was happening. His heart started to pound. '_There is no fucking way she's leaving me with a baby._' He looked up to see her running down the stairs. But he couldn't move – he was in complete shock. '_Oh my god..._' he thought, and looked at the baby.

"HEY!" he yelled, but she kept running. "No!" he said, and forced himself up. He ran down the hall towards the stairs, leaving the door wide open and the baby sleeping.

He ran down as he could, trying to catch up to her. When he reached the door, he whipped it open and jumped down the stairs and looked around. She was nowhere to be seen.

"HEY!" he yelled again, as if that would make her come back. All it resulted in were strange looks from walking passerby. Trying to catch his breath, he looked around again, trying to find her. She was gone.

Mark gave up and started back up to the loft. When he reached his floor, he stopped, five feet in front of the baby carrier, staring at it.

He tore his eyes away from it and turned to the wall.

"FUCK!" he yelled, punching the wall. He quickly regretted doing so, and pulled his now pained hand to his chest, cradling it. Turning his back to the wall, he brought his hands to his face, and slid down until he was sitting on the floor with his knees to his chest.

'_God I really fucked up this time..._' he thought, face buried in his knees.


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay. I had written something for chapter 3 about half a month ago, but it was poop. I talked with my buddy Swinn, and she helped me decide what I should/shouldn't put in it. So, I rewrote it. Thank you, Swinny! XP**

Ohhh, and I don't know how long it will be until chapter 4 is up. It took me this long just to think of how to write chapter 3 witout it being crap, and I don't have any clue on what I want to happen in chapter 4 (coughcoughhelpmewithitcoughcough). Okay, anywho, read and reviews are lovely!

**Once again, Jonathan Larson owns all. word.**

--

_'What have I done? How could I have been so irresponsible?'_ "God I'm so stupid!" he yelled out loud, and slammed his head back against the wall. He ignored the pain, half-hoping it would make the now forming migraine go away. "I'm...so...fucking...stupid..." with each pound of his head came a new word. "Stupid...stupid...stupid...stupid..." he repeated, a dull pounding pain starting to form in his head.

There was the loud sound of a door opening from inside the loft. Mark had left the door open, and was too busy pounding his head and yelling to notice.

"What the hell is going on?" Roger's groggy voice called out as he poked his head out of his room. He looked around and noticed the loud banging was coming from outside the loft. The door was open and he could hear Mark's echoed voice; "Stupid...stupid...stupid..."

Still half asleep, Roger walked over to the door to see what the commotion was. On the way to the door, he looked at the clock. _'It's not even eight yet!'_ He was going to give Mark hell for waking him up so early. The sun was bright. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he reached the door.

"Mark, what the hell are you yelling ab-" he said, opening his eyes.

His eyes fell on the baby sleeping in its carrier. _'What the...?'_ he thought. "Mark." he said, and swallowed. His friend hadn't noticed Roger come out, and was still smashing his head against the wall and yelling. Tearing his eyes away from the baby, he looked at Mark.

"Mark!" he yelled, getting frustrated. Mark heard him this time and jumped a little at Roger's forceful tone. He just looked at Roger, his eyes wide and scared. There was a moment of silence. Mark could feel the spot where he had been hitting his head repeatedly. _'There's definitely going to be a bump there tomorrow.'_ he thought, and swallowed.

"What the hell is this, Mark?" Roger broke the silence. He motioned to nothing. Mark continued to stare at him.

"What?" he asked dumbly. Roger rolled his eyes and stepped out of the doorway so he was standing next to the baby carrier.

"This!" he yelled back, pointing at the sleeping form. Mark's eyes dropped down from Roger's angry glare and fell on it. He could feel tears stinging his eyes. He swallowed and took a deep breath.

"A baby." he whispered. He didn't want to admit it was true.

"What?" Roger yelled back.

Mark closed his eyes, turning away from Roger and the baby. "A..." tears were falling freely now. His throat was constricting – he knew it'd be hard to speak without his voice cracking. "A baby." he said finally.

Another silence. Mark kept his eyes shut, tears falling onto his chest. He heard Roger shift his weight and cross his arms and knew he was going to say something.

"And just whose baby is it?"

There was another long pause. Mark shut his eyes harder. He couldn't believe this was happening. He took a deep breath.

"Mine." he said quietly, his voice cracking. He felt so ashamed.

This time it was Roger's turn to sound dumb. "What?" he said, uncrossing his arms and stumbled away from the baby as if it was poisonous. His tone was light and confused, not the harsh and angry tone he had used before.

"He...or she...is mine." he said, wiping his face. He looked up at Roger and saw the confused look on his face. Taking this as a sign to continue, Mark sighed and went on.

"Remember that one night stand I told you about?" Roger's eyes widened and he nodded for Mark to continue.

"Yeah, well...she knocked in the door, crying about how she 'couldn't handle it anymore,' and practically threw the baby at me and took off!" he had calmed down a bit by now.

"Oh, Mark," Roger said, his voice full of sympathy, crouching down to look at the baby. "You didn't even think about using a condom?" Roger said in a motherly manner. Mark rolled his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. "Obviously not." he said bitterly, motioning to the baby.

There was silence as Mark sat there and Roger looked at the baby.

"So...what are you going to do?" Roger said just above a whisper. Mark shook his head slowly, rubbing his eyes. "I don't know."

"What do you think Mo will do?" he asked. Mark groaned.

_Maureen._

"Fuck." he said. Maureen was his girlfriend. They had been dating for almost two and a half years, and Mark hadn't told her about the one night stand in fear of being dumped. Now he had to tell her, and there was living proof, literally.

"I have no idea." he said, rubbing his eyes harder. Roger nodded in agreement. There was another silence.

"Well, let's take it inside. It wouldn't be good if she came up and saw us...heh..." Roger said, trying to lighten the mood. Mark glared at him. "Heh..." he said, picking up the baby carrier. "Come on, buddy," he said, smiling lightly. He held out his hand to Mark. "It'll be okay." Mark sighed and took hold of his friend's hand. When Roger helped him up, he clapped his arm around Mark's shoulders and walked into the loft together.

--

**Okay, so there's chapter 3! I know it's kind of short...it was long in my notebook thingie. / I might add more, or just make it chapter four. Who know's. :P  
Reviews would be lovely. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, so...I know it's been a while since I updated this story, but I have good reasons for why! Firstly, I _still _don't know where I'm really going. I have little snippits in my head I want to write out (haha, Swinny XD), but I don't have an actual plot so far. It's going pretty good so far, though...Secondly, for the past two weeks I've had finals/preparing for finals, and a LOT of graduation stuff going on. Oo Sooo...don't be hating! aha.**

**ANYWHO! Please read, and if you want, leave a review? They're so exciting to get!  
Jonathan Larson owns all, except baby. Yup. ENJOY! :)  
**

--

"So

"So...how are you going to tell her?" Roger asked, breaking the silence.

Both he and Mark were sitting slouched on the couch; Mark with his elbows on his knees, resting his pale head on his hands. When they had come into the loft, Roger had placed the baby carrier on the coffee table, and now both men were staring at it, contemplating what to do, and how to break the news to Maureen.

Mark sighed and hid his face deeper into his hands. "Iono..." he mumbled, defeated.

"You're going to have to tell her some time, Mark." Roger said quietly.

"Yeah, no shit!" Mark shot back, glaring at Roger. Roger gave Mark a sorry look. He didn't mean to upset Mark.

Seeing Roger's response, Mark sighed and leaned back into the couch.

"Sorry man...I just don't know how I'm even going to begin to tell Mo that –"

"Tell me what?" they heard from behind.

Marks eyes grew wide when he heard Maureen's voice. He swallowed hard and looked at the baby, who was hidden from Maureen's view by the couch.

"What do you have to tell me?" she asked, taking her scarf and coat off by the door. "Oooh, is it a surprise?!" she squealed, heading towards the kitchen to grab a beer out of the fridge.

"Oh...it's uh...it's a surprise alright..." Roger said uncomfortably. He got up from where he and Mark were still sitting on the couch.

"I'll just go..." Roger said, quickly dashing out the door, completely forgetting his leather jacket slumped on the great, steel table.

Mark still hadn't been able to face Maureen – his gaze was still on the baby.

"So babe, what's this big surp –" she stopped when she came behind Mark, seeing the baby.

"Oh Mark!" she squealed excitedly. Confused, Mark furrowed his brow and looked back at Maureen.

"What?" he asked.

"Oh, you've found a way to earn money!" Now Mark was really confused.

"Huh?"

"Babysitting, Mark! You never told me you were going to babysit for some extra cash! Oh Marky, that's so cute!" she squealed, hugging Mark's shoulders from behind.

He couldn't believe his ears. _Babysitting?_ He knew Maureen could be dense at times, but this was pushing it.

"No, Mo." he said, closing his eyes and lightly pulling himself out of Maureen's embrace.

"Wha –?" she started, but Mark interrupted her.

"I'm not..._babysitting_...it," he paused. Just then he realized he didn't even know what sex it was.

Maureen backed off and placed her cold beer on the side table.

"What are you saying, Mark?" she asked slowly, walking in front of him to face him. He wouldn't look her in the eye – he _couldn't_ look her in the eye.

"Mark." she said reassuringly when he did not respond, kneeling down to be level with him. She placed a hand on his knee.

He let out a deep breath, bracing himself for his confession. Now Maureen was going to know the truth about that one night.

"Well..." he started. He looked up at Maureen, who nodded for him to continue.

"Well...you see," Mark told her about the drunken one night stand from so many months ago, and about his hectic morning.

"...She abandoned me with this baby, and I don't know what to do." he looked at the floor during his whole confession, afraid to see Maureen's reaction to it all.

"I...I'm so scared, Mo...I'm so scared." he admitted, chancing a glance at Maureen. Her eyes were glazed over, her bottom lip was quivering, and she looked like she was going to cry at any second.

"What do I do, Mo?" he whispered, his wide eyes searching his girlfriend's for some sort of answer.

She bit her bottom lip, as if trying to think of some way to help him.

All of a sudden, Maureen reached out and slapped Mark on the cheek, hard. Head turned and eyes closed, he could feel the outline of her hand stinging his pale, now reddening, cheek.

Quietly, Maureen got up and made her way towards the door. In silence she put on her scarf and coat. Right before she left, she turned towards Mark, who was now touching the still-burning spot where Maureen had slapped him.

"I can't believe you," she said, her voice quivering out of rage and sadness. "You – you fucking pig!" On her way out, she slammed the door, causing Mark to jump. He heard her run down the stairs, and slam the door when she left the building.

**--**

**SO! I was debating on whether or not I should add more (Roger, baby actually _finally _waking up, discovering what sex it is, name, etc.) but I was DYING to get what was already written up, so I think that will be the next chapter. ;D Read and review!**

**PS - ****OH! And I just wanted to ask - I heard that after Rent leaves the Neder, Legally Blonde is taking its place?? Is this true?? OO**


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay! So, first off, I want to thank Mrs. James Norrington for actually reading and reviewing Chapter 4. I was losing hope for this story, and she encouraged me and actually convinced me to get off my lazy ass and write up a new chapter. So, thank you for the reviews! XD They meant a lot to me.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rent. Jonathan Larson owns all, minus baby and whacked out girl. Read, please review and tell me what you think!, and I hope you enjoy this. :)**

--

Roger stood outside the loft during Mark's confession to Maureen

Roger stood outside the loft during Mark's confession to Maureen. In an attempt to hear through the thick sliding door, Roger held his ear against it. Nothing. Straining to hear the slightest of noise after not being able to hear anything at all, he pressed his whole body against it, listening close.

"_I can't believe you! You...you fucking pig!_"

Maureen was closer to the door than Roger had thought, and jumped back in just enough time. Maureen stormed out of the loft, red in the face and very angry looking. She slammed the loft door shut with such a force, Roger could feel the floor shake beneath his feet. As Maureen hurried down the hall and stairs, Roger stood there, his eyebrows so high on his face, they were almost lost in his mess of wavy curls. He kept his eyes in the direction Maureen had gone. This was not how he'd expected her to react at all. He thought she'd have at least _some_ understanding. After all, this was Mark's first – and only – mess-up in their relationship. He thought she'd accept it and forgive him, especially since she was always out sleeping with other men behind Mark's back.

Roger was dragged out of his thoughts when he heard an annoying, loud cry come from inside the loft. He didn't need to press himself up against the door to hear it.

Roger opened the loft door quickly and looked at Mark, who was now kneeling in front of the wailing baby, frantically trying to quiet it down. Roger walked over next to Mark, and looked down at the screaming pink bundle, eyes wide.

"What happened?!" Roger asked Mark loudly over the baby's wails.

"Maureen woke it up by slamming the door! Shh...be quiet, please!...Shh!" he said, getting more and more frantic as the baby grew louder and louder.

Roger sighed. They were screwed. Absolutely screwed. What did they know about babies? Nothing! They didn't know how to feed it – or what to feed it, even. The thought of taking care of a baby scared him. Hell, they didn't even know how to change a diaper!

And then it hit him.

"Uhh...Mark?" he asked, hesitantly but loudly, louder than before, over the baby.

"Shh! Please! Please be qui – what, Rog? Shh!" Mark asked, getting obviously frustrated on not knowing how to quiet the baby.

"How are we going to change its diapers? I mean...we don't even know if it's a boy or a girl..." he pretty much shouted, the baby was so loud now.

Mark turned to face Roger. He had lost it and given up on trying to shush the baby. His eyes were red, his face was flushed, and he had tears falling down his cheeks.

"_Oh yeah,_" Roger thought while looking at his best friend, "_He's definitely not ready for this yet._" Mark looked so helpless and scared. He never meant for anything like this to happen!

"I don't know!" he shouted, putting his hands over his ears to block out the cries.

"_Oh god, what now?!_" Roger thought, panicking slightly. Just then he got a thought.

"Here." he said, picking up the crying baby under its arms, placing it carefully against his broad chest, holding its head like he had seen mothers do in movies. He bounced it gently, not really knowing why or how this would help, but knowing it would. Mark looked up at him, confused.

"What are you – " he started to ask, but was interrupted by Roger shouting at him.

"Go look in that folder she gave you. Maybe there's some sort of birth certificate or something that can give us more information."

Mark nodded in agreement, and quickly got off the floor and went over to the metal table where they had put the folder when they brought the baby inside. Roger gently bounced the baby, shushing it every now and then. After a few minutes, Roger had quieted the baby down a considerable amount. The only noise coming out of the baby now was a soft whine.

"Aha!" Mark exclaimed after a few more minutes of searching through the contents of the thick folder.

"Well?" Roger asked, still bouncing the baby.

Mark quietly scanned over the birth certificate he found. After reading it, he sighed and walked over to Roger. He placed his hand on the baby's back. It was so small, his hand and fingers could took up its whole back easily. He could feel its shallow breaths as it quieted down its crying.

"Well? What is it?" Roger asked, getting annoyed, while looking at the silent film maker.

Mark looked at the baby, a look of sadness and pure bliss both etched onto his face.

"I have a little baby girl." he said quietly, stroking her soft, strawberry-blonde hair – a stunning combination of both her parent's hair colors.

"Oh, Mark." Roger said smiling, looking down at the baby. She had stopped crying completely, and was now smiling and cooing.

"Her name's Annalise. Annalise Cynthia Cohen." he said fondly. Roger furrowed his brow in confusion and looked up at Mark.

"'Cohen'? You can't just go changing her name now that that girl just dumped her on your doorstep!" he told Mark sternly.

"No!" Mark defended himself quickly. "That's what it says on her birth certificate! 'Annalise Cynthia Cohen'!" Mark held up the paper in front of Roger to prove it. After Roger read it over, he raised his eyebrows and looked at Mark.

"She's only two weeks old." he said.

"That explains why she's so tiny."

Both men were silent. Mark continued to stoke her light hair, and Roger just looked at Mark, who was adapting to, or at least beginning to, his new child. Roger looked back down at Annalise, who yawned and turned her head to look at Mark.

"Umm...Roger?" Mark asked timidly.

"Mmm?" he answered, looking back up at Mark.

"Do you think I could...you know...?" he asked, extending his arms slightly.

Roger smiled. "Yeah, man, it's your kid!" he chuckled and carefully transferred her from his arms to Mark's awaiting arms.

Mark took her and cradled her in his arms. He sat down on the couch and looked at the little life drifting off to sleep in his arms. She yawned again and nuzzled her head into Mark's crest.

"Wow..." Mark whispered, and stroked her hair with his right hand. "Just...wow..."

Roger smiled at the sight before him.

Thinking Mark would like this time alone with his new daughter, Roger crossed the loft to his room. Taking one more glance back at Mark, he could hear him whisper, "Shh...it's alright now...you're alright now...Daddy's here...shh..." As Mark leaned down and softly kissed the sleeping infant's forehead, Roger smiled to himself and quietly shut the door.

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Mark was ready to try this Dad thing after all.

--

**So, what did you think? I thought it was pretty good, espcially for writing it at 3AM during a thunder/lightning storm. But, I find storms (that aren't deadly - lol Swinners) quite calming. I hope you enjoyed it! Please review and tell me what you think. :D**

**OH! And before I go - I thought I'd share why I chose the name 'Annalise Cynthia' for the baby:**

**- Honestly, the first name was chosen because sometimes when I don't pay attention, I tend to hear things differently than what they really are. This one time I was listening to "I'll Cover You" and I thought that, instead of Angel and Collins singing, "A new lease, you are my love!", I thought they said, "Annalise, you are my love!", and I got utterly confused for a second there. So, I thought it'd be nice to stick to my own silly mistake. XP**

**- As for Cynthia, no, I did not name it after Mark's sister (even though it's a nice coincidence!) I named her Cynthia after my aunt, who passed away this past winter. I loved her very much, and I don't think it was very fair that she had to leave us so early in her life. She pretty much introduced me to Broadway when I was very young (her brother was actually on BWay for a few years, as the Phantom! XD) so, I thought it'd be nice to name the baby after her. :) RIP Aunty Cindy!**

**ANYWHO! R+R and ENJOY! D**

**-EB91**

**A/N 8.6.08 - I deleted this chapter only to edit the age of Annalise. I looked up 3-month olds, and honestly, that's not how I pictured Annalise at all. I pictured her much smaller - a newborn. Sooo...instead of her being 3 months old, I changed it to two weeks old. That's the only difference from before. I hope you enjoy. :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey! Here's chapter six. I know what you're thinking: EB91? UPDATING TWICE IN ONE WEEK? What is this?! XD Let's just say, I knew where I wanted to go with this chapter, what I wanted to put in it, and I just wanted to write it while it was still fresh in my mind and before I forgot everything. Hehe.**

**I hope you like this. It's much longer than the other chapters (about 2,000 words longer!), and I wrote it in two days. My hand is killing me from writing it and typing. **

**So, read, and please review and tell me what you think! I love getting feedback. :)**

**Note - All belongs to the great Jonathan Larson, minus Annalise. :)**

**Alright, I know, I know. I deleted this chapter just because there were a few things that were bothering me. I have slight OCD, and I just needed to go back and change them. / But, they're small little tweaks, thing's you'll barely notice. Soo...it's all the same, just a few words are different. Enjoy. :)**

--

Mark could see her in the distance. She was dressed all in white – a billowy skirt and tight tank top, and her crazy brunette curls were flying around her face. The sun was shining bright, and the contrast between her outfit, the bright blue sky, and the emerald green grass made her seem to have a glow around her. They were in a spacious field, separated by wild flowers of every color imaginable.

"Mark!" he heard her distantly shout. She held out her arms and started running towards him.

"Maureen!" he shouted and started towards her, arms outstretched in front of him as well.

"I love you, Mark!" she shouted. From the distance, Mark could make out the huge smile on her face, going straight across from one ear to the other.

"I love you, too, Maur – " he stopped short of speaking, a terrible odor wafting over his face. He looked down at the flowers as he ran, his face screwed and scrunched.

_'Geeze, for being so beautiful, they sure do smell like shit...'_ he thought, but kept on running.

"Mark!" Maureen shouted again. He looked up at her running. She hadn't noticed the stench yet; she still had that wide smile on her face.

_'Hmm...whatever...'_ Mark thought. He chose to ignore the smell and keep running.

"I love you, Ma –!" Maureen started saying, but she too stopped short, just noticing the offensive smell herself. Mark could tell – her wide grin had turned into a deep frown, her eyes closed tightly shut, and her eyebrows were burrowed. Like Mark, she chose to ignore it, and kept running.

A few seconds passed by, and the stench still hadn't gone away. Their running slowed down into a fast-paced walk. Maureen had her hand placed over her nose and mouth in attempt to filter her breathing air; Mark had pulled the neck of his shirt up and over his nose and placed his hand tightly over it.

They finally met up to each other in the middle of the field. Waist-deep in the rank flowers, Mark and Maureen approached one another slowly. For a minute, they just looked at each other.

"God, it smells like shit!" Maureen cried out suddenly, speaking for the both of them. Her eyes were watering from how bad the stench was.

Mark just nodded his head in agreement, afraid that if he opened his mouth, more than words would come out.

He looked to the ground. _'Well, this sucks.'_ he thought, looking at the flowers. _'What a fucking mood-killer.'_

Beside him, Maureen let out a deafening wail.

Mark jumped and awoke with a start. He was still on the couch, slouching down with his feet propped up on the coffee table. Annalise was still being cradled in his arms, just like how she was when they decided to take a cat-nap together. The only difference now was that she was now squirming and kicking in his arms, wailing like before.

Realizing it was all a dream, Mark shook his head to wake up a bit. That's when he smelled it again: That horrible, hideous stench from his dream.

"Uggghhh!" he cried in disgust, looking down at his crying daughter. "Gross! Ugh!" He swung his feet off the coffee table and sat up, resting the baby on his lap before picking her up under her arms. He lifted her up.

_'I guess there's only one way to tell...'_ he thought, bringing the baby close to his face. He slowly inhaled.

"Oh, God! Fuck!" he coughed, extending the baby as far away as his arms could reach. Annalise let out a great wail, tears rolling down her face. When Mark looked up and saw how miserable she was, his heart broke.

He sighed. "Come on. Let's get you cleaned up...somehow." he said unsurely. He got up, and walked over to the metal table where Roger had placed her pastel blue baby bag. Arms still outstretched like a fool, he leaned over and placed Annalise on her back. She was still squirming, kicking and throwing her tiny fists around.

"Shh, I know, I know." Mark said softly, quickly going through the bag in searching of a fresh diaper. When he found the pack, there were only four left. Looking at the clock, he saw that it was ten o'clock in the morning.

_'Hmm...these should last the rest of the day.'_ he guessed, grabbing one out of the pack. When he looked back at Annalise, he realized he had absolutely no idea how to change a diaper. Unsure of what to do, he did the only thing he could think of.

"ROGER!" he yelled loudly in the direction of Roger's room. A loud mumble was his only response. Apparently, Roger had decided to go back to sleep. "Roger, come help me!" he called louder, and more forceful than before. There was another loud mumble, but much to Mark's pleasure, Roger emerged from his room.

"What's up?" he asked Mark, wiping the sleep from his eyes as he stiffly walked over to join the filmmaker and the crying Annalise at the steel table.

"Were you asleep the whole time she was crying?" Mark asked in amazement. Roger was usually a very light sleeper.

"Trying to – UGH! GOD!" he yelled, instantly clamping one of his large hands over his mouth and nose.

Mark raised his transparently blond eyebrows and put on a big, fake smile. "Want to help me change her diaper?" he said quickly, holding his hands out to Annalise, as if to make the idea of changing her diaper more appealing.

"Ugh..." Roger groaned, muffled by his hand. Finally, he sucked it up and took his hand away from his face. "Can't you do this yourself? I mean, she is your kid and all!" Roger asked, hoping Mark would agree with him.

"Please, Rog? I don't know how to even _begin_ changing a diaper!" he pleaded.

"Oh, and what makes you think I know how to?" Roger shot back. Mark just looked back at him with a pleading look on his face. "Please!" Mark mouthed at Roger, picking up the clean diaper.

Sighing loudly, Roger dramatically rolled his eyes, ripping the diaper out from his friend's hands. "Fine. How hard can changing a diaper be, anyway?"

He walked around to the other side of the table so that he and Mark would be on either side of Annalise, and to be out of each other's way as much as possible. Roger sighed and glared at Mark. He was only going to help Mark if he needed it; Mark was going to do all of the 'dirty work', so to speak.

Getting the hint, Mark reached forward and unsnapped her yellow onesie, sliding it off her, and laying her back down on the table. As soon as her tiny back touched the table, she let out a louder cry than before.

"Shit!" Mark exclaimed, scooping her up into his arms and holding her kicking body close against his warm chest.

"The table must be freezing to her...Rog, can you go find some newspapers or something we can lay her down on?"

Roger slightly gaped at his best friend. "What is she, a fucking dog?" Roger asked Mark, looking at him as if he was the dumbest person in the world.

"Okay then...go get a towel or something then!" Mark shouted impatiently. Annalise's wails were getting louder and louder. _'She must be so uncomfortable, poor thing...'_ Mark thought, and kissed the top of her head lightly. Roger swiftly walked into the bathroom to fetch a towel.

When Roger came back with a thick, white, fuzzy towel, he laid it down on the table in-between him and Mark. Mark leaned forward and gently placed Annalise down. Her screams didn't get any quieter, but they certainly didn't get and louder. "That's better, huh?" Mark smiled down at Annalise, and reached out to pull the tabs of her diaper back.

"Welp, here goes nothing..." he said, taking a deep breath and folding the diaper back.

"UGHH!" they both groaned in disgust, stepping away from the baby, coughing.

"Go get me," Mark managed between coughs, "Go get me some fucking toilet paper or something!" he ordered Roger. More than happy to get away, Roger nodded and quickly dashed to the bathroom in search of toilet paper.

"For someone so tiny, you sure can make a big mess." Mark frowned down at his daughter as Roger came walking back, a roll of toilet paper held at the end of his outstretched arm. He gave it to Mark and took a step back. Grimacing, Mark folded back the diaper once more.

"Now what?" he asked, unrolling the toilet paper. Roger looked at him. "What do you fucking think? Wipe!" he practically yelled at him.

"Ughh..." Mark sighed in utter disgust. "This is wrong...just wrong..." he said, trying to figure out how exactly to do it.

"Mark." Roger said after a minute of watching Mark debate on what to do.

"What?" he asked, getting annoyed.

"What the hell are you doing?"

There was an awkward silence where Mark glared at Roger. _'What the hell does it look like I'm doing, you dipshit?'_ he thought.

"Trying to figure out how to clean her..." he answered. Roger rolled his eyes. "What!" Mark asked, annoyed.

"Well...don't you like...lift her up by her ankles or something?" Roger asked.

"Oh...yeah...I guess..." Mark agreed. _'Of course you do, you idiot!'_ He felt like smacking himself.

He gently grabbed her ankles with his left hand and lifted her carefully, exposing her backside. The whole time Mark cleaned her, the look of disgust never left his face.

"There." he said when he was done cleaning her. "Can I have the diaper?" he stretched out his hand towards Roger, who handed the small, puffy diaper over.

"Don't you have to put baby powder on her or something?" Roger asked while Mark tried to figure out which way the diaper went. "I don't know," he answered, not taking his eyes off the diaper he was now turning over in his hands. "I don't think I saw any in there, anyway." he jerked his head towards the blue bag.

"Ah." Roger responded. He looked down at Annalise, who had stopped crying finally.

"That must've really been bothering her." Roger pointed out. "That, or she just likes to be naked around guys." He and Mark shared a chuckle. "Let's hope not." Mark smirked as he finally figured out what was the front and what was the back.

"There!" he smiled proudly once the diaper was secured into place. "Tadaaa! As good as new!" Mark exclaimed, smiling, and held out his arms as if expecting a round of applause.

"Congratulations." Roger clapped a hand on his shoulder. "You just changed your first diaper. One down, oh, I don't know, fifty million more to go?" he laughed and started walking to his room.

"Hey, Rog?" Mark asked quietly. Roger stopped in his tracks. "Yeah?" he asked, turning around. Mark was now putting the onesie back onto Annalise and snapping the buttons shut.

"Do you want to come to the store with me? She only has three diapers left, and I figured we could pick up your AZT while we're there." He was now looking through the bag for socks, shoes, pants and a coat. When he found them, he looked up at Roger with happy, hopeful eyes.

Roger sighed. "Sure." he answered. "I'll never get back to sleep now, anyway." He went back over to the steel table to grab his leather jacket. He looked at Mark, who was struggling to put pants on Annalise, who was giggling and cooing all while kicking her legs. After a minute or so, Mark laughed down at her.

"You just like being a little pain in the ass, don't you?" he said cutely, trying once more to get her tiny, kicking legs into her pants. All while he was watching this, Roger had a smile on his face.

"Here." he said after he put his leather coat on. "I'll finish dressing her. You go get your stuff." he bumped Mark aside, taking the tiny pair of pants from his hands.

"Alright, thanks." Mark walked to his room to get his plaid coat, knitted navy blue and white scarf, and his money. By the time he came out of his room, Annalise was completely dressed and being bounced in Roger's arms.

"How'd you dress her so quickly?" Mark asked in amazement, taking her from Roger.

"I'm just that special." Roger smirked as they walked out the door. Mark smiled and rolled his eyes.

--

Mark and Roger walked to the nearest drug store, Mark held Annalise close against the harsh January wind. _'I should've looked for a hat in that bag while I was at it.'_ Mark thought as Annalise's wispy, soft, strawberry-blonde hair danced in the bitter wind. He put his hand on the back of her head, bringing her closer to the warmth of his big, oversized coat.

"My God, it is cold out." he said, looking at Roger, who was walking briskly beside him. "You should look at yourself. Your nose is as red as a tomato!" he chuckled. Mark rolled his eyes and kept walking. Roger loved to tease him about how pale he was, and Mark hated it.

The rest of the walk to the drug store was in silence. When they reached the drug store, Mark opened the door and quickly walked in. He took his hand away from Annalise's head and looked at her, making sure she wasn't too cold.

"I need to get her a hat." he sighed and looked over at Roger. "How much money do you have on you? he asked, knowing the answer. Roger shrugged. "Enough for the AZT, but that's about it." Mark frowned. He didn't have enough to buy diapers and a hat. He hardly had enough to buy the basic necessities for living.

Mark sighed and walked towards the baby section. When he got there, he stopped, coming face-to-face with a wall of all different kinds of diapers.

"Shit." he whispered, unsure which one to grab.

As Mark was looking and comparing the different diaper brands, Roger came over, laughing. "Hey." he said through his laughter, trying to get Mark's attention.

"What?" Mark asked, looking over. He quickly regretted it. He rolled his eyes and sighed, and went back to comparing diapers.

"You should totally get this for Maureen. I think she'd appreciate it ver – " Mark cut Roger off.

"I am _not_ getting Maureen a huge stuffed animal!" Mark exclaimed.

"Oh, come on! She'd love it!" Roger practically begged, shoving the fat, stuffed cow toy in front of Mark. "Just give it to her and say you're sorry."

"Yeah." Mark snorted. "I'll try to apologize, and she'll think I'm calling her a fat cow. Not good."

There was a silence. Roger was trying to hide his laughter, but was failing terribly at it.

"What?" Mark asked, annoyed.

"Oh, nothing, nothing..." Roger said in a sing-song voice, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"What!" Mark demanded again, getting annoyed with his friend's behavior.

"It's just...I mean...she is...kind of a cow." Roger giggled.

Mark was taken aback. How _dare_ he insult his girlfriend in front of him like that? "She is _not_ a _cow_!" Mark defended angrily.

"Well, I mean, she _is_ kind of bigger..." Roger started to explain.

"So?" Mark interrupted. He didn't like where this was going. Yeah, Maureen was a little bit on the chubby side, but he never really cared. All those stickly girls grossed him out; they looked too fragile, like they'd break it he touched them.

"So," Roger went on, "all I'm saying is – "

"Well, maybe I like girls with a little meat on them! I like curves!" he said, stepping forward and ripping the stuffed cow out from Roger's hands. He turned towards the diapers and threw it on the shelf.

"I think she's got more than just curves going on there, buddy...rolling curves..." Roger chuckled quietly. Mark sighed heavily and grabbed a package of diapers. "Whatever." he said, making his way to the pharmacy to get Roger's AZT.

When he got Roger's medicine, he shoved the small, white bag into Roger's hands and made his way to the front of the store to pay. He put the package on the counter and took his wallet out from his back pocket. While the diapers were being rung up and bagged, he counted his money. Eight dollars and sixty-four cents. _'A pack of diapers shouldn't cost more than that.'_ he thought, taking it out.

"That'll be fifteen-fifty, sir." the young woman at the register said. Mark shook his head, shocked. "What?!" he said, his wide eyes looking at her like she had a second head growing out of her neck.

"That will be fifteen dollars and fifty cents..." she said slowly.

Mark ran his right hand through his hair and let out a deep breath. "Well, I don't have that much!" he exclaimed.

"Well, I'm sorry sir, but you're going to have to put these ba – " she started.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no, you don't understand," he said, leaning towards her, "I _need_ these." he said, tapping the diapers with his right pointer finger. _'Why is a fucking package of diapers so expensive?! They're only going to be shit in!'_

"Well, sir, like I said, I'm sorry, but – " Mark opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by someone else.

"Here, let me help you." Mark looked behind him and saw a young man who was waiting for his medication at the pharmacy when he and Roger were waiting. He looked as young as he was, maybe younger, and Puerto Rican he guessed.

"Oh, no, you don't have to – " Mark protested, but was cut off again.

"Now, really, I insist honey." he said with a smile, handing the woman a twenty dollar bill. Mark noticed his nails were painted a metallic blue when he handed the money over. When the cashier handed the man back the change, he turned to Mark.

"Here," he said, handing him the change, "keep it for the next time." He smiled and began to walk away.

Mark, stunned by the other man's generosity, looked up at him. "Hey!" he called. The man turned.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Um...thanks. You know, for helping." Mark smiled.

The other man grinned again. "No problem." and walked out the door. Mark watched him leave, and turned back to the counter, grabbing the plastic bag that contained the diapers.

"That sure was a nice thing for a stranger to do, especially in New York City." Roger said, opening the door for him and Mark and walking back out into the bitter coldness.

"Yeah...it was." Mark agreed and snuggled Annalise close to him as the two friends made their way back to the loft.

--

**Sooo...what do you think? I really liked this one, personally. :) It was loooonngggg, and I love long chapters.**

**Being the youngest one in my entire family, I've never had to change a baby's diaper. I had to look up on Google, how to. Let's just say: As cute as babies are, I** **really don't look forward to changing a diaper when I'm older. It's gross.**

**OH! And I thought that diapers were like, six dollars at CVS. I went on the website, and HOLY CRAP! I can't believe diapers are so expensive! They're almost fifteen dollars or more. Holy cow. No wonder new parents go crazy about diapers. O.o**

**ANYWHO! Please read, and leave a review about what you think. I hope you enjoy!**

**-EB91 :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Alrighty, so here's Chapter 7! I first planned it to be a bit longer than it is, but I just couldn't write anymore, and thought that where I ended the chapter was a good spot. Plus, I got the main point across. I think this is going to be the last chapter for that one day, so yay! Let the fun COMMENCE! Haha.**

**So, read and tell me what you think! Feedback is VERY helpful, let me tell you. And it's always lovely getting reviews. :) So...just read and tell me what you think. **

**Note - All things belong to Jonathan Larson. Except Annalise. She's only a fragment of my creative imagination.**

**OH! And before I forget to mention this - I think I've finally settled on the idea of this being very? Pre-Rent, and sliiiiiiightly AU, since I'm not really going with the real story line. But canon is just like guidelines anyway, right?... XP**

--

"I don't believe it!" Mark shouted while searching through the blue baby bag, digging around. He had already checked every pocket thoroughly and still couldn't find what he was looking for. Sighing angrily, he grabbed the bag's sides and lifted it above the table. He tipped the bag over, dumping the contents onto the table. Brow furrowed, he searched through the small pile of random articles of clothing, diapers and other various items. He held up two devices that looked like speakers. Cocking an eyebrow, he carefully put them to the side.

_'She packed these?'_ he thought. _'Of all the things you absolutely need in order to take care of a baby, she packed baby monitors? Great, but not what I need.'_

"What?" Roger shouted back. He was sitting on the couch, trying to calm down Annalise. After him and Mark came back from the store, Annalise had been rather quiet, observing her new surroundings, and even taking a good nap. Around noon, she started to become fussy, which formed into another full-blown cry, wailing her bright, little blue eyes out. Thinking back, Mark realized it had been hours since Annalise had arrived, and she was yet to be fed.

Mark sighed angrily again, and gave up searching though the bag's contents. He closed his eyes and rubbed them, resting a hand on his hip.

"That bitch A) didn't pack a single Goddamn hat for her!" Mark counted off his fingers. Roger rolled his eyes and shook his head. Ever since they'd gotten back from the store, Mark hadn't stopped complaining about how she really needed a hat since the cold outside wasn't going to let up anytime soon.

"What?" Mark asked, seeing Roger shake his head.

"Oh, nothing. Go on." Roger replied, turning his attention back to Annalise, who was still crying.

"I mean, come _on_! She's only two fucking weeks old! It's below freezing outside – what if she gets sick?!" he shouted his eyes wide with anger. "AND! There aren't even any mittens or gloves! She could get frostbite! What was she _thinking?!_" he took a deep breath, and continued.

"And B), she also didn't pack any bottles or food for her!" he exclaimed. He was now sitting in front of Annalise with Roger, his face as red as his screaming daughter's.

He closed his eyes and leaned his elbows on his knees, rubbing his temples.

"She didn't pack any food?" Roger asked, not believing his friend.

"Nope."

There was a pause where Roger looked at Mark disbelievingly.

"Nothing?!"

"Nothing." Mark confirmed. "No food. No Bottles. No milk-stuff...Nothing."

There was another pause where both men looked at Annalise.

"Well, shit." Roger concluded.

Mark sighed again and got up, and headed towards the door. Confused, Roger followed him with his eyes.

"You going out?" he asked while Mark began to put his heavy, plaid coat on.

"Well, yeah. I've got to get her food. I can't let her starve!" Mark replied, looping his worn scarf around his neck several times. He wasn't kidding when he said it was below freezing outside – the thermometer that was hooked to the side of the kitchen-area window read the temperature to be at 14°ferenheit. Putting on his gloves, he turned to Roger.

"I'll be right back, alright?" Roger nodded, acknowledging Mark's comment.

Mark slid open the door and stepped out into the drafty hallway. Shivering, he quickly slid the door shut, in a sad attempt to conserve what precious heat they were lucky enough to be getting.

Quickly, he briskly made his way down the stairs and through the front door, and started his trek down the slushy, icy street towards the store.

* * *

When Mark arrived at the store, he stopped outside it, looking up at the bright, fluorescent letters, a few of them blinking incessantly. _'These trips to the store are going to be getting more and more frequent now, huh?'_ he thought, sighing. _'I really need to get a job now. There's no way we'll survive if I don't get one...'_ he entered the store, still lost in thought, and made his way over to the baby section for the second time that day.

When he turned the corner, he found a woman standing there, comparing different diaper brands. She was about the same height as him, maybe shorter, and African-American, with long, skinny braids which were pulled neatly back into a pony tail. She was clad in gray dress pants, black, shiny leather clogs, and a black, feminine trench coat which was bound closely to her body. Sitting next to her was a baby carrier, very similar to the one Annalise arrived in, only the baby resting in this one was much larger.

When Mark stepped into the aisle, the woman looked up and looked at Mark. She smiled, and went back to looking at diapers. Mark imitated her smile and quickly walked over to the shelf opposite the diapers.

When he looked up at the different foods on the shelves, he became even more perplexed than he was while looking for diapers. So what _could_ a two-week old eat, exactly? He knew most babies were breastfed, but seeing as it was Mark and Roger toughing it out alone, that was completely out of the question. Thinking that, he stepped over to look at the bottles. There were all different sized ones.

_'Now what?'_ he thought, grabbing two different sized bottles. Quietly, he quickly looked over his shoulder to see if the woman was still there. She was. He wanted to ask her for help – he really had no idea about babies whatsoever. But on the other hand, he didn't want to look like a terrible, irresponsible father. Grabbing a third bottle from the shelf, he looked at all three of them, still no idea which one to buy.

"Shit." he sighed quietly, looking back up at the large variety of bottles. He pulled down a few more and began comparing them.

"Excuse me," he heard from behind him. Surprised, he looked over his shoulder to see who was talking to him. When he saw it was the same woman, he turned around.

"Oh," he said quietly. "I – I'm sorry. I didn't mean to uh...to swear..." he said nervously, thinking she was scolding him for cursing under his breath.

"Oh! No, it's not that...it's just, you look like you're having some trouble, and I was wondering if...you needed any help?" she said, nodding at the many bottles in his hand.

Not expecting her to say that, Mark just looked at her for a second.

"Oh...uh, yeah...yeah. I don't know which...to uh...which bottle...to get." he said quickly, fumbling over the bottles, showing her each one as he did.

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Well, how old is your baby?" she asked.

Mark looked up at her. _'Why does it matter how old she is?'_ he thought.

"She's two weeks old." he answered slowly, looking at her questioningly.

She smirked and laughed. "Ah, so you're a new daddy? Figures..." she chuckled, taking the bottles out of his hands. Brow furrowed, Mark looked from her, to the bottles, and back up to her.

"Newborns," she began, looking at the shelf of bottles, "should be fed every one and a half to three hours if breastfed." she looked up at Mark. "Is your wife breastfeeding your baby?" she asked.

Not sure what to say, Mark stumbled to find the right words.

"Oh, no...I...no, she..." he said, shaking his head, eyes wide. There was an awkward pause.

"So you're bottle-feeding the baby?" he asked.

_'I guess, since neither Roger nor I have breasts...'_ he thought. "Um...yeah." he said, looking up at her.

"Okay...well, bottle-fed babies at two weeks old should be fed about two to three ounces of formula," she said, reaching over and taking a can off the shelf, "every two to four hours." she looked up and found a small bottle and handed it and the formula over to Mark, who looked at it, perplexed.

"Uh...thanks." Mark said, looking up from the formula and bottle to the woman.

"No problem." she smiled. "Oh! But if this is your only bottle, you should get at least one more. You know, so you can always have at least one clean one..." she grabbed another bottle off the shelf and handed it to him.

"Right." he said, taking it from her. "That would be a good idea..." he smiled slightly. There was an awkward moment where Mark just looked around, not quite wanting to leave just yet. There were so many questions he wanted to ask her about taking care of a baby. _'How often do you need to change diapers? Can I feed her jars of baby food? When do they start talking? When do they learn how to walk? Potty-training? Or how about doctor's, or shopping for clothes?'_

"I'm Mark, by the way. Mark Cohen." he said, breaking the silence by offering his hand to the woman. She smiled and took it.

"Joanne Jefferson, nice to meet you, Mark." she smiled, shaking his hand.

"You too...so, how old is your son?" he asked, trying to start a conversation. He nodded down at the infant in the baby carrier. Her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed.

"Oh...Oh! No! No, he's not my son! No, he's my nephew..." she blurted out quickly.

"Oh," Mark said. He could feel his while face blush; he felt stupid for assuming it was her son. But then again, she assumed he was married just because he had a child.

"Yeah, I'm just babysitting him for my brother...No. I mean, I'm just..." she began.

"Ah,"

"I mean, I'm a _lesbian!_..."

"Oh!" Mark said, surprised at her random confession.

"I mean, not that lesbians can't give birth or anything! I just..."

"Oh, No...Yeah...No...Yeah. Yeah." Brow furrowed, he just nodded and agreed with her. _'This is awkward...'_ he thought.

"Yeah...so..." she concluded, blushing from here to tomorrow, avoiding Mark's eyes.

"So...uh...you know a lot about babies, Joanne, was it?" he asked, trying to switch topics to a more useful and helpful one.

"Yeah," she answered, glad to get off-topic. "Yeah, I'm always babysitting little Jared here..." she said, looking down at her nephew.

"Nice, nice..." Mark said, picking at the price sticker on the jar of formula. "So, uh, I know this may sound weird, but, are you doing anything today?" he asked, biting his lip. He had come up with a brilliant idea, and he needed as much help as he could get.

"Umm...no, why?" she asked, thoroughly confused.

"Uh...well, I was just wondering if you could come back to my apartment with me..." upon seeing her shocked and confused face, he realized what he said, and held his free hand up."Oh, no! Not like tha – !"

"Not that that doesn't sound lovely and all, but I told you, I'm a lesbian, and – " she interrupted his explanation, backing away slightly.

"What? No!" he interrupted her, smacking his free hand to his forehead. "Not like _that!_ I was just wondering if you could show me how to take care of a baby!" he stepped back a bit too, to show her he meant no harm to her.

She just stared at him.

"I have _no_ idea what I'm doing..." he pleaded, holding up the can and bottles slightly."Please. Just for a little bit."

She looked at him and to the items in his hand, and back up to his face, contemplating.

"Nothing will happen, I promise you..." he said, really hoping she'd agree.

She looked at him and bit her lip. Mark tried to give her his most innocent look. Finally, after a few minutes she sighed.

"Fine, but _nothing_ had better happen, or so help me God, I will castrate you and put you in jail for the rest of your life. I am a _very_ good lawyer, and I see sick cases like this all the time, and I am _not_ afraid to go through that process. You got that?" she asked in a low, menacing voice, backing Mark up into the shelf of baby foods. Mark's head had shrunk into his shoulders, and he was trying to back up as much as humanly possible into the shelf. His bright, blue eyes wide with fear of the threat, he nodded his head in agreement, his face just inches from Joanne's.

"Okay then." she said in the same low voice, smiling and backing away from Mark. "Let's go check out, and head over to your place. I'll show you how to feed your baby!" she said, walking towards the registers.

Mark swallowed. "'Kay!" his voice cracked, and dragged himself away from his position on the shelf to follow Joanne to the front to pay.

* * *

"So, not trying to be nosy or anything, but why isn't your wife breastfeeding your baby?" Joanne asked as she and Mark walked to the loft. They had gone from the store to her brother's house to drop off Jared, and were now on their way to the loft.

Mark was quiet for a minute, feeling slightly awkward. He could feel her dark, brown eyes looking at him.

Mark cleared his throat. "Um...Annalise's – my daughter," he added in when he saw Joanne's confused face, "mother and I aren't married."

"Oh...I see. You two are dating – "

"We aren't dating, either..." he sighed."It was uh...a very drunken one night stand, actually." he said quietly, feeling ashamed. Joanne raised her eyebrows when she heard Mark tell the truth about how his baby came to be.

"Oh," she said, nodding in understanding, "I see...She was a mistake..."

Mark stopped walking, and looked at Joanne. "No." he said, shaking his head. Joanne stopped and looked back at him. "What?" she asked, confused.

"Annalise...wasn't a mistake, because you regret making mistakes. I don't regret having her at all." he said, looking her in the eye. "Maybe in one way she's a mistake, in that you learn from your mistakes, and I hope to learn a lot from her. But I definitely don't regret having her." he admitted softly.

"So what is she, then?" she asked quietly.

Mark pondered her question for a minute.

"Well," he continued, "I guess if anything she could be considered an accident." he said. Joanne looked at him questioningly.

"...Aren't those the same thing?" she asked.

"Mmm...No." Mark answered, continuing to walk towards the loft. "You see, you always regret mistakes. But accidents, you just have to cope with, and deal with it day to day." he smiled. "You've got to learn to accept what happened, and move on." He thought about what he had just said for a moment, and decided that it was true with other things going on in his life. He'd have to tell Roger that sometime.

Joanne looked over and smiled at Mark. "You're a wise man, Mark Cohen."

Mark smirked and laughed. "Come on. We're almost there." He couldn't wait to introduce her to Roger and Annalise. He had a feeling he'd be seeing more of Joanne as time went on.

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**So, there it is, Chapter 7. I've had Mark's little speech thing at the very end planned out for quite some time now (now that I think about it, I think I've had that part planned in my head since April or so, but I couldn't think of where to use it.) and this just seemed like the perfect time to use it! Hehe.**

**What did you think? Did I surprise anyone with making the woman Joanne? I hope so...since it's Pre-Rent, I figured she'd have long hair. :) Oh, and I know about their swearing. Joanne's going to crack some skulls about their foul mouths, trust me. XD Haha.**

**Anywho, review and tell me what ya think. Feedback is always much appreciated!**

**-EB91**

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	8. Chapter 8

**Hey everyone! I'm sorry I haven't updated in so long - school's pretty much eaten up my life. So, I thought I'd ad something, even if it's just a little bit, just to hold you over. I've got a whole bunch of ideas for the next chapter/chapters! So yay! Haha.**

**Anywho, read and review? They always give me warm and fuzzies when I get them. Hehe. Oh! And before I go - I just wanted to say, if you really want to read some good fan fiction, I definitely recommend datagirl3. Her stories are amazing!**

**Anywho, I hope you enjoy. :)**

**As always, everything belongs to Jonathan Larson. And the song, "Here Comes the Sun", which is by, and I think owned, by the Beatles. Nothing's mine, except Annalise!**

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Mark groaned and woke with a start. It was Mark's turn to share a room with Annalise, and she was screaming her little lungs out. He and Roger took turns taking care of her during the night every other night.

When her cries continued, he sighed, reaching blindly over to his nightstand to grab his watch, eyes still closed, face still on his pillow. His hands fumbled around, picking up random items and throwing them aside. When he couldn't find it, he opened the drawer to search its contents. His fingers lazily danced along the various items – an old calculator from high school, his old retainer, nail clippers, paper clips, a few old candies, and a stash of unopened condoms. He wasn't sure why he still had them; he was pretty sure him and Maureen were over and done with. After all, it had been two weeks since she'd spoken to him.

When he finally found his watch, he opened his eyes and focused on the tiny hands. _'3:17 AM?!'_ he thought, dropping his head face-down onto his pillow, sighing heavily. _'Only four hours of sleep since the last time she woke up...'_ He sighed again, grabbing his glasses and shoving them idly on his face while dragging his body out of bed.

He sleepily made his way over to the crib Joanne had generously bought them, and bent down to pick up his crying daughter, yawning in the process.

"Why can't you just sleep the whole night through?" he asked, opening his door to walk into the kitchen area. When he reached the table, he put the changing mat on it, and rested Annalise down. Roger had bought the mat with his secret savings after more than a few of their towels got ruined.

Mark turned on the light, and proceeded to unsnap her purple footie-pajamas, stripping her down to her diaper. He no longer had a problem with changing her diaper – he had gotten used to it once he realized just how often diapers needed to be changed.

When he folded back the tabs of her diaper and lifted her up, he saw no business that needed to be cleaned up.

"Oh, you little piggy," he chuckled as he secured her diaper back in place and put her soft pajamas back on. "You're just hungry again, aren't you?" he smiled and picked her up, resting her wriggling body against his bare, sleepy-warm chest.

He walked over to the cabinet, opened it, and pulled down a bottle. Carefully resting Annalise on the floor, he took out a can of formula and a can opener. Once the holes were poked into the can, he unscrewed the nipple from the bottle and poured the formula in. Screwing the top back on, he bent down and picked up Annalise, who was still crying.

He cradled her in his arms and walked to the couch and sat down. Picking up a small, pink blanket, he placed it over her.

When she was covered up and bundled warmly, he placed the bottle's nipple to her lips. She graciously accepted it, and sucked at it greedily. At once, the loft became peaceful again. _'I wouldn't be surprised if Roger's awake by now.'_ he thought as he watched his daughter eat.

He bounced her slightly, wishing they had a rocking chair. Constantly bouncing her got very tiresome after a while. He thought about asking Joanne if she'd help chip in for one, but the thought diminished when he looked around the loft and saw all the things she'd already gotten them – a highchair, a stroller, countless items of clothing and toys, blankets, the crib, a strap-on baby carrier, diapers and even bottles and formula. He felt guilty for even thinking such a thing.

He sighed and went back to watching his daughter. After a few minutes, he noticed how large she had gotten. She wasn't too much bigger than she was two weeks ago, but she has definitely grown. He smiled proudly, knowing he was doing something right.

It was quiet while Annalise finished eating. When she was done, Mark placed her bottle on the coffee table and put her to his shoulder. He patted her back gently, burping her. She wiggled about, kicking her legs, squirming against his chest. She moaned a little, becoming fussy again.

"Aww, now what's wrong?" he asked sympathetically. Usually after she was fed, she'd fall right to sleep. Now, she was beginning to become colicky again. He bounced her a little bit while patting her back – maybe she swallowed a lot of air while she was feeding and was feeling uncomfortable?

"Shh, come on," he encouraged quietly as the volume of her cries increased. "It's okay...shh..." He rested her down in his arms so he was cradling her. Her little fists were balled up, and her face was pink while she cried.

"Shh..." he bounced her. "It's alright..." Just then he got an idea.

He looked around to Roger's door to make sure he wasn't awake. When he was sure Roger was still asleep, he cleared his throat and took a deep breath. He hardly sang, and if he did, it was never in front of anyone.

"Here comes the sun, do do do do, here comes the sun, and I say, it's alright," he began softly. He looked down at his daughter who was still crying, and continued.

"Little darling, it's been a long, cold, lonely winter. Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here." Annalise stopped crying, but was still moaning and squirming about.

"Here comes the sun, do do do do, here comes the sun, and I say, it's alright." he paused, looking down at her. Her big, blue eyes stared back up at him. She smiled, waiting for him to continue. He grinned and took another breath.

"Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces. Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here. Here comes the sun, do do do do, here comes the sun, and I say, it's alright."

Annalise's eyes were fluttering open and closed, trying to fight sleep but losing the battle. Mark continued, amazed his singing was actually putting her to sleep.

"Sun, sun, sun, here it comes. Sun, sun, sun, here it comes." he repeated, lightening her bounce while she fell asleep in his arms.

"Little darling, I feel the ice is slowly melting. Little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear. Here comes the sun, do do do do, here comes the sun, and I say, it's alright."

He smiled, holding his daughter. She had stopped squirming and was now breathing heavily, consumed by sleep. More quietly than before, he went on.

"Here comes the sun, do do do do, here comes the sun, and I say, it's alright."

He got up from his spot on the couch and headed back into his room. He walked to Annalise's crib and gently placed her down, careful not to wake her up.

"It's alright." He bent down and kissed her forehead. Sluggishly, he walked over to his bed, a slight smile playing across his lips. He crawled back into bed and placed his glasses on his nightstand. He rested his head down on his pillow, yawning, and within minutes he was asleep.

--

**I'm sorry it was so short. I did have more planned out, but I thought it'd make a better beginning for a chapter rather than a middle. Does that make sense?**

**Expect more soon? I'm not sure when, but hopefully it won't take _too _long.  
Read and reaview? :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9, _FINALLY_! I just want to thank you guys so, _so_ much for being so patient, and for the lovely reviews. It always makes my day a whole lot brighter, really. :) So much stuff has happened since I last updated, and I either just did not feel like writing or doing anything due to events that happened, or didn't have time, etc. I've had more than half of this written for quite some time now, but didn't really know how to end it, until tonight. I do have a few ideas of what could happen in upcoming chapters, but I'm going to apologize in advance if I end up not updating for a while.**

ANYWHO! Read, review and tell me what you think! Your thoughts help a lot in my stories, trust me!  
All belongs to Jonathan Larson, except Annalise. :)

**Enjoy!**

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The sun shone brightly through the window in Mark's bedroom, sending brightness throughout the room. Groaning, Mark turned over onto his back. After a few minutes he yawned, giving into the sun's incessant reminder that it was a new day.

Squinting in the brightness, he reached over to his nightstand and grabbed his glasses. Putting them on, he sat up slightly and leaned on his elbow, reaching over and grabbing his handy wrist watch.

His eyes widened when he saw the time. '_10:47?!_' He rubbed his eyes in disbelief and looked at the watch. It still read the same time.

'_It's can't be 10:47! Annalise would've woken up long before now!_' he thought, throwing his watch on his nightstand and sitting up quickly. He swung his legs over the edge of his bed and looked over at her crib. She wasn't in it. Panic filled his body as he quickly got up from his bed and made his way over to her crib

"What the hell?" he questioned out loud, picking up the soft, yellow blanket he had covered her with the night before, as if she might somehow magically appear underneath it. When she didn't appear to be hiding under the blanket, he ran a hand through his messy blond hair, causing it to stick up on end.

'_Oh god, oh my god_.' he thought, clutching the blanket to his bare chest, his eyes darting around his room. Quickly, he moved to his door and walked out, trying to find his daughter.

When he entered the big, lofty living room, he was surprised to not find Roger in sight, drinking his usual cup of coffee. Annalise was nowhere in sight.

"Roger?" he called out. It was too quiet in the loft. Between Annalise crying and Roger constantly playing guitar, there was always some sound being resonated though their spacious apartment. But not now – all that could be heard was the stony silence of the walls surrounding him and the faint sounds of beeping car horns and yellings of the city.

"In here, Mark!" he heard Roger call quietly. Mark's head snapped to the side and eyed Roger's closed door with wide, worried eyes. He followed his voice to his room, his panic never leaving him. If Roger wasn't up yet, then where the hell was his daughter?

"Rog, Annali – " he began loudly, opening the door to Roger's room quickly.

"Shh!" Roger interrupted him, holding a finger to his pursed, winter-chapped lips. When Mark looked in and saw Roger, he sighed in relief, placing a hand on his chest. He walked into the room fully. Roger was lying on his bed, his back propped up against the wall, and there was Annalise, fast asleep on his chest, tightly grasping a handful of Roger's t-shirt.

"Oh, thank god!" Mark all but cried, sitting down on the edge of Roger's bed. He reached over and carefully detached his daughter's sleeping form from his best friend. He placed her against his warm chest and rocked her back and forth gently.

"About time you woke up." Roger said quietly, reaching over to the other side of his bed, picking up his acoustic guitar which was propped up against the wall.

"I know, I can't believe I slept this late. Usually I'm up way before you." Mark agreed, yawning by the end of the sentence.

"I know. I'm surprised she didn't wake you up!" he smirked.

"What do you mean?" Mark asked, looking over his shoulder at Roger, confused.

"At like, seven in the morning she was crying and crying, and apparently you were in such a deep sleep you didn't hear her."

Mark looked at Roger for a moment, his brow furrowed. "Really?" he asked, amazed. He slept right through her cries?

"Yup. It woke me up. I waited for you to get up, but after a few minutes she was still crying. So, I got up, went to your room and peeped in to see if you were there."

Mark raised his eyebrows at Roger, who was now absentmindedly plucking the strings of his guitar, playing a soft tune. Roger nodded and continued.

"And there you were, face-down on your pillow, arm hanging over the edge of your bed, _snoring_." he said, smirking at Mark's shocked face.

"Wow." Mark replied, looking down at Annalise, lightly stroking her soft, strawberry-blonde hair.

"You must've been really tired if you didn't even hear her crying ten feet away from you!" Roger chuckled.

"Yeah," Mark smiled with Roger, hugging his daughter to him lightly. "We had another late night last night. She woke up at like, quarter of three in the morning, wanting to be fed. Again." He kissed the top of her head and transferred Annalise in his arms so he was now cradling her.

"Yeah, I heard." Roger said, plucking arpeggios, his long, slender fingers dancing up and down the guitar's neck.

"What?" Mark asked quickly, the smile leaving his face as soon as it came. Quickly, he turned around to face Roger. He knew he'd wake Roger, he just knew it. He only hoped that Roger had fallen asleep before he sang to Annalise, or couldn't hear him at least. He hated it when people heard him sing. With wide eyes, he watched Roger play.

"I heard you last night." he said simply, his eyes not leaving his guitar.

"I – " Mark began to explain himself, feeling his face turn a light shade of pink in embarrassment.

"You know, you're not that bad." Roger said, and looked up at Mark. "Your voice, I mean. Your singing." he added, seeing Mark's confused face. "How come you don't sing more often? You're good." He began picking at the strings, playing the opening of the song Mark sang to his crying daughter only hours before.

"Oh," Mark said, surprised by Roger's response. "I guess I just don't like singing in front of other people." he answered quietly. Roger stopped playing and looked up at Mark, who was now deep red. He furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Why not? It's easy performing in front of other people." he asked, bewildered.

"Easy for you to say." Mark mumbled, playing with his daughter's little hands, noticing how long her nails had grown.

"Aw, come on Mark. Why not?" Roger pressed on.

"I don't know," Mark answered, desperate to change the subject. He didn't like the idea of performing in front of people. What if he messed up? What if they laughed at him? What if it was a complete failure? He liked to see things from a different standpoint. That, he reasoned, is why he liked to film other people perform. Because, if someone did ever mess up, or if people laughed, or even if it was a complete failure, he could go back and edit it out. He liked seeing things from the outside.

He looked down at Annalise, asleep in his arms. Lightly, he rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. Subconsciously, she took hold of his finger and held onto it tightly.

"I just don't like to – " he stopped mid-sentence, the sound of the loft's large sliding door opening filling the loft. Mark and Roger looked up at the door, confused.

"I didn't know you were having someone come over this early." Mark said, watching Roger as he quietly put his guitar back on the ground by his bedside.

"I'm not." He replied, sitting up more and listening.

"What?" Mark asked, starting to get worried. On instinct, his grip on Annalise tightened, and he brought her closer to his body.

"I thought you locked the door last night?" Roger spoke quietly, getting up from his bed and walking towards the door.

"I did." Mark said in the same quiet tone Roger used, getting up and walking in front of Roger to his door, still holding Annalise close to him.

As silently as he could, he opened the door just enough for his head to fit through, and peered out.

As he scanned the large room for the intruder, his eyes fell upon a mess of auburn curls atop a woman sitting on their couch: Maureen. She was sitting on the couch; legs crossed and propped up on the coffee table, a bag of chips in her lap, a beer in one hand and the television remote in the other, watching TV.

"Maureen?" Mark asked, handing Annalise over to Roger, and opened the door wider and stepped out of Roger's room.

"Well, hello there!" Maureen looked up at him, smiling, and began putting her stuff on the coffee table. She stood up as Mark walked over to her.

"Nice outfit, works for ya." Maureen commented on Mark's attire, giggling as she tugged at the waistband of his boxers.

Mark chose to ignore her comment. "Maureen, what are you doing here?" he asked, swatting her hand away from his underwear as she tried to peek down.

"I do live here, don't I?" she waved over to Roger, who was leaning against his doorframe, watching from his bedroom. Hands busy with bouncing Annalise, he merely nodded his head in greeting, a fake smile on his face.

"Yeah, but – " Mark began, but was suddenly cut off by her coming up to him and fiercely locking her lips with his. Staggering back slightly, he quickly responded, and began to kiss her back; it had been a while since he had had any type of contact with another person. After a moment of kissing her back, he remembered why he was angry with her and broke off the kiss.

"Maureen!" he shouted, wiping his mouth slightly. "You can't do this!" Mark said loudly, backing up slightly.

"What?" she asked, truly confused.

"'What?' What do you think, Mo? You leave for two weeks, don't tell anyone where you are or who you're with, and then just poof! Appear two weeks later, acting as if nothing's happened?" Mark yelled, crossing his arms. He felt like he was yelling at a child who had snuck a cookie before dinner. There was an awkward silence that lingered in the air like a thick smoke.

"So?" Maureen broke the silence.

"'So?'?! What the hell, Maureen! You just can't do that." he all but exploded, throwing his arms in the air.

"Well, I don't see why _you_ off all people should have a problem with that! At least _I_ didn't go off and get _so_ shit faced that I had random, crazy sex with someone I don't even know!" She yelled back defensively, her hands flying in the air, "OR had a kid!" She had to add, shooting him a look that could kill.

"Hey, you're the one who decided it was a good idea to force me out and get me rip-roaring drunk that night! Didn't I tell you that I didn't want to get drunk?" Mark fought back, a red flush beginning to creep up his chest and neck to his face. "And don't bring Annalise into this!"

"Why not? If I recall correctly, you were out that night and I didn't know where _you _were!" She said with a smug look on her face, thinking she had him there.

"If _I_ recall correctly, you weren't even home when I came back. And when you_ did_ decide to come back, THE NEXT DAY, you smelled like someone else's cologne, _and_ you were wearing completely different clothes! _Men's clothes_!" Mark yelled back, losing his temper completely and stamping his foot down. "And that's not the first time that's happened, Maureen, but I still put up with your shit! How can you _dare_ say that I – " He began, but was interrupted by the phone ringing.

Mark sighed heavily, turning around in frustration and rubbed his face with his hand, the other balling up into a fist and resting on his waist. '_Why is Maureen such a pain in the ass sometimes?_' he thought as he waited for the answering machine to pick up. Finally, after a few more irritating rings the old, drunken, freshly-dropped-out-of-college-and-we-don't-care voices of Mark and Roger sounded through the apartment.

"Mark, honey? It's Mom! Just returning your call, you said you had something very important to tell us! I hope you don't need more money – I really hoped you'd have found a job by now, sweetie, but if it is, we don't mind! It's so nice to have you call us for a change, really; we usually have to practically send out a search party for you just in order for us to have a somewhat decent conversation together! Anywho, just call us back when you get the chance, Marky, honey, okay? We'll be waiting!" His mother's voice practically sang, causing Mark to become redder in embarrassment, and Roger to grin. Everyone was silent for a moment.

Still breathing heavily in anger and frustration, Mark walked over to Roger and took Annalise, who was now awake and crying, out of Roger's arms and began walking to his room. When he reached the door, he spoke low and menacingly over his shoulder, not looking at Maureen.

"You can stay here if you really want to; I can't deny you your home." he began to close the door.

"Where will I sleep?" Maureen asked quietly, afraid of Mark's tone.

"If you're so willing not to sleep with me, I think you'll find the couch very comfortable." With that, he shut the door behind him.

Shocked by her boyfriend's answer, she stared at his door, mouth hung open. Scoffing, she looked over at Roger, who was standing in his doorway, still shocked at what happened before him.

"Seriously??" She asked, resting a hand on her hip, pointing her thumb to Mark's door. Roger looked at her with wide eyes, not knowing what to do or to say. He was stuck between his best friend, and his best friend's girlfriend, who had a very bad temper and was not afraid to unleash it on people. Not wanting to get on either one's bad side, he merely shrugged his shoulders and quickly backed up into his room and shut his door, leaving Maureen standing alone in the living room.

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Alright, so there's chapter 9. I hope you guys liked it. :)

-EB91


	10. Chapter 10

_Hey everyone :) I know this is on hiatus, but I haven't forgotten about it. I actually had something else written for chap. 10, but I really didn't like where it was going, and then my computer crashed and I ended up losing everything. So, I decided to start over! And now I have this. Yay! :D_

_I saw Rent for the first time, too, back in July. It was absolutely amazing. I wish I had been able to see it more times before it came off Broadway, but hey, what can you do? _

_Oh..I'm really not sure when this will be updated next. Today was my first day of school (guh.) and the beginning of my Senior year. I'm not sure how heavy the work load is going to be. :/ But I won't forget about this story, trust me!_

_Anwho, I present to you: Chapter 10! Read, review, and enjoy! :)_

_-EB91**Note** - All characters, and everything Rent belongs to Jonathan Larson, except for Annalise and the whacked out baby mama. They're mine. :)_

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It had been almost three weeks since Mark and Maureen's angry fight. Every night, Maureen followed her boyfriend's advice and slept on the couch. That is, when she was even home. Many nights she would leave all done up and in a huff, as if Mark and Roger really cared where she was going, and not show up for days at a time. If it bothered Mark, he did a good job not showing it. As February crept in, it brought with it oddly warm weather. The boys took advantage of the weird heat wave as much as they could – they opened windows, went out more, and sat on the fire escape, enjoying the change in weather.

Roger sat on the old beat-up couch, his legs propped up on the coffee table. He could feel the light breeze coming in through the big windows that lead out to the fire escape. Though he had his guitar propped up in his lap, his hands sat motionless as he leaned back, enjoying the breeze. Sounds of clapping, little giggles and quiet babbling traveled through the window, causing Roger to smile. Mark was out there, resting in an easy arm chair they swiped from an outdoor café set up during a rain storm earlier in the fall, Annalise resting in his lap.

"Whose toe-toes are these?" Mark asked quietly with a grin. He tugged lightly at her small toes, causing her to look up at him with wide, blue eyes. "Whose toe-toes does Daddy have?" He repeated the question, tickling the bottom of her feet. Instantly a smile broke out on her face, a sweet little baby cackle sounding its way through the air as she kicked her legs.

"Daddy has Annalise's toe-toes!" He laughed along with his daughter. She lifted her head, losing interest in Mark's anatomy lesson and gripped his pants, using them for leverage. Slowly and with great effort, Annalise managed to roll herself over, resting on her stomach. Excited at his daughter's new movement, a he drew a slow breath in, his grin reaching from ear to ear.

"Annalise! Oh my God! Good girl!" Mark clapped, picking her up and giving her a kiss on her forehead. "Roger! Come here!" Mark called over his shoulder, bouncing Annalise as she cackled with more laughter.

A few moments later Roger appeared at the windows. Resting his arms on the ledge, he leaned his head out, becoming level with Mark.

"What's up? I heard you clapping." Roger asked, reaching out and ruffling Annalise's soft, wispy hair. She smiled and reached up and grabbed hold of his fingers. He grinned as she smacked his hand with her small one, nearly hitting Mark in the head. Mark dodged her hand and looked up at Roger, all smiles.

"She rolled over! In my lap, she rolled over! All by herself!" He beamed, holding Annalise up a bit more. Clearly impressed, Roger raised his eyebrows.

"Really? She's never done that before." Roger observed, eyeing Mark's proud face.

"I know. I was just sitting here, talking to her and laughing, and she just stopped laughing, lifted her head up and rolled over! I mean, she was using my pants to grip, but still. She rolled over, all by herself!" He smiled, kissing Annalise on the temple. Annalise squealed with laughter and tugged at Roger's hand, putting his fingers in her mouth to suck on.

"Uh, uh, don't do that, Annalise." Roger said, frowning a bit as he removed his fingers from her death-like grip. She looked up at him, her big blue eyes clearly showing she didn't agree with his decision. "Supper will be soon, be patient."

Annalise couldn't disagree with him any more. Impatiently, she bounced her legs and slapped her hands against Mark's arm in protest, which was wrapped snuggly around her tiny body. "Ahhh!" she whined up to the rocker.

"What's wrong, honey? Do you want Roger to hold you?" Mark questioned his daughter, making sure she wasn't going to fall.

"No, she just wants a bottle, that's all. She knows we think she's cute, and she has us wrapped around her little finger!" Roger grinned, stepping out of the window and onto the fire escape. He kneeled down to be level with her and kissed her on the forehead.

"Aaajha!" she cried, grasping handfuls of his sandy-blond hair. Roger paused, enduring the pain his friend's daughter was causing him. He focused his eyes on Annalise's close face. She was smiling her gummy grin, a sparkle in her eyes. Did she just say what he thought she just said?

"What did she just say?" Roger asked, untangling the baby's hands from his hair. She seemed to find this comical and reached for more hair with one hand as soon as he accomplished separating the other hand from his head. After a few more tries, Mark reached over and held onto her free hand as Roger untangled the other. "I don't know. I didn't really hear her." Mark shrugged, hugging his squirming daughter.

Annalise moaned, trying to get her hand out of Mark's grip. As Roger stood up, Mark released her hand, both going back to slapping his arm in protest. "Aaajha!!" she cried again, louder and more confident this time, and looked up at Roger. "Aaajha! Aaajha!"

Roger blinked, a smile slowly setting on his face. "She's saying my name!" He pulled up another swiped lawn chair and sat down next to Mark, leaning his elbows on his knees to get more comfortable.

"She's not saying your name, Roger." Mark frowned, trying to hold her hands still. She slapped away at his arm, using it as her own personal drum set.

"How can you say that? She's _clearly_ saying my name! Annie, can you say, 'Roger' again for me?"

"Aaajha!" Annalise squealed, dodging Marks' hands and grasping her ear and the shoulder snaps on her onesie.

"Aha! I told you she was saying my name!" Roger exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "Yeah! Good Annalise!" He looked up at Mark and faltered at the look on his face. He looked shocked, but Roger couldn't miss the slight look of disappointment that were etched into his eyes.

An awkward silence settled between the two of them. Annalise was imitating Roger and Mark's clapping, putting her little hands together but not making much noise at all. Mark looked away and hugged his daughter closer, giving her a light kiss on the temple, emitting another bout of giggles from her.

"Her first word. Wow." Mark sighed, a slight smile creeping onto his face. "Two big accomplishments in one day: her first roll-over and first word. What's next, going to scale Mount Everest, huh?" He chuckled softly, cuddling Annalise close to him.

"Nah, she still has to learn to crawl first." Roger added, letting Annalise grab hold of his hand again. "I can't believe she said my name. And for her first word? Man." He grinned, taking off one of his rings and letting Annalise play with it.

"I know. I was hoping it'd be something more along the lines of 'Dada' or 'Daddy', but why stick to the cutesy nicknames if you can just go straight for the real, harder names?" Mark all but sighed, not even trying to hide the disappointment. He usually didn't show his emotions this easily, but it hurt him. Annalise gripped Roger's ring, observing it before putting it into her mouth.

"Mark, don't let it get to you. I mean, it kind of makes sense that it's her first word if you think of it." Roger said softly. Mark pulled the ring out of her mouth, not wanting her to choke on it, but still let her still hold onto it.

"I just thought she'd say something to _me_, you know? And what do you mean, it makes sense?" Mark sighed, casting his eyes down. He laid Annalise down, belly-up, in his folded lap and was now rubbing little circles on her tummy. She was still engrossed by Roger's ring, her large, blue eyes never leaving the strange, shiny metal band that she held in her hands.

"Well, you're always talking to me, saying my name. She always hears it and picks it up. You haven't been using 'Dada' or 'Daddy' as much as you use my name, so it's only natural for her to pick 'Roger' up."

Mark didn't look up at Roger. As true as he knew that was, it still stung. His daughter could associate words with his friend, but not her own father? It just didn't seem right. Mark promised he would use 'Dada' or 'Daddy' as much as he could around her, and probably even encourage Roger to do so as well.

"Hey, I'm going to head in for a bit, see if we need anything from the store for dinner." Roger said quietly, getting up and moving his chair back to its original position on the other side of the fire escape. He eyed Mark carefully. He was still playing with his daughter, tickling her feet and rubbing her little belly. Annalise just looked up at him and kicked her legs, squirming around in his lap.

'_You are so lucky._' Roger thought, looking down at his friend's daughter; his little bundle of joy. Knocked out of his reverie by a small gurgle, he smiled and leaned down to take his ring back.

"You need anything from the store while I'm there?" _As if we could afford it._ Mark scrunched his forehead in thought, trying to think of anything. Finally, he looked up at Roger and shook his head.

"We have enough diapers to last a while, enough formula, and pretty much every toy I can think of." Mark shrugged. "Actually, I was thinking of asking Jo to see if she'll help out with a rocking chair I've been eyeing, but I haven't seen her lately."

"Yeah." Roger nodded in agreement. A rocking chair _would_ be pretty nice. "You want to come then?"

"Nah. I think I'll stay here, maybe give Annalise her bottle." Mark shrugged. Roger nodded, leaving the loft in search of dinner, leaving Mark to his thoughts and to feed his baby.

"Daddy hasn't seen Auntie Joanne in a while, has he?" He asked down at Annalise. She just looked up to him, a crease starting to form on her forehead. She started whining, which soon turned into crying.

"I know, I know. Dinner'll be done in a minute." Mark sighed, getting up and heading into the loft to prepare her bottle. He put her on the blanket that was laid out on the floor and went to the kitchen area, pulling out the formula powder and mixing it with water. As he sat down on the couch to feed his daughter, something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.

Mark looked at the phone on the table next to him. The loft was quiet, now that Annalise was busy eating. He could easily talk on the phone and feed her at the same time. He bit his lip, debating whether or not he should call her.

"Oh, what the hell." He said, reaching over for the phone and quickly dialing Joanne's number. They hadn't seen each other for a while. The last time they did see each other, Joanne seemed really distracted. Mark couldn't figure out what was bothering her, but she left not too long after.

He put the phone receiver to his ear, listening to the phone ring. Was she home, or was she working? It was around five, so he figured she would be home. Maybe she was working late, or got called in, or –

"Hello?" Joanne answered the phone.

"Hey, Joanne, it's Mark." He said slowly. Was this a bad time to call her? There was a pause after he spoke and he bit his lip, unsure of what to do.

"Oh, hey, Mark…" She said after what seemed like hours when, realistically, it was only moments. "What's up?"

Once again she sounded distracted and…nervous?

'_That's weird_.' Mark thought. "Oh, nothing. You know, the usual." He rolled his eyes and restrained himself from smacking his forehead with the phone. How dumb of an answer was that? "I haven't heard from you in a while and was just wondering how you were doing." Much better.

"Oh." Joanne sounded speechless. What was going on? Usually she could go on and on, talking on the phone for hours on end. Now she just sounded distracted and didn't have anything to say. Mark waited another moment to see if she'd continue. When she didn't, he went on.

"Is…everything alright?" He asked carefully. He didn't want to upset her if nothing was wrong, but wanted to know why she was acting so strange.

"Yeah! Yeah, everything's fine." She answered quickly, almost too quickly. Mark scrunched his brow.

'_Okay, now something is _definitely _wrong._'

"Hey, has–never mind." She said quickly, catching Mark off-guard.

"Has what?" Mark asked curiously. Was she finally going to open up and tell him what was going on?

"No, never mind, it doesn't matter. It was stupid." Joanne protested.

"No, really. What?" Mark pushed. He was really getting confused now, and beginning to get concerned.

"I – I have to go." And with that the line went dead, leaving Mark to sit there listening to the dial tone, utterly confused.

"Hello? Joanne? Hello?" Mark tried, but knew she had hung up on him. '_What the hell was that all about?_' He thought, putting the phone back on the receiver.

Annalise was just about done with her bottle, and sucked up the last of it greedily. Mark burped her, walking to Roger's room to lay her down in her crib for her nap. He stood there and watched her for a moment, her eyes fluttering shut as sleep took over her body. He grinned at the peaceful expression she had, and leaned down to kiss her lightly on her forehead.

"She's really precious, you know."

Mark must've jumped a mile high; he was not expecting anyone to be watching him, especially Maureen. Turning around, he held a hand to his chest, his heart beating profusely against his hand.

"What?" He asked, even though he heard her the first time. He just couldn't wrap his mind around it that quickly. '_I thought she hated her? Hell, I thought she hated _me_! What the hell made her change her mind?_'

"Your daughter. She's really cute." Maureen was leaning on Roger's doorframe, looking in at Mark and Annalise. Mark looked at her cautiously. She hadn't said more than five words to him in the last few weeks, and now she was trying to make nice with him?

"Thanks." Mark said flatly, cocking a brow and blinking disbelievingly. There was an awkward silence; Mark scratched the back of his neck while Maureen bit her lip. Finally, Mark let out a big sigh, dropping his hand limply to his side.

"Why are you here?" It wasn't accusing or aggressive, but defeated and hurt. Maureen bit her lip some more and thought for a minute.

"I wanted to apologize." It was simple and quiet. She wasn't making eye contact, but rather darting her eyes around the room, landing on random spots throughout the Rocker's messy niche.

Mark bit his lip and barely shook his head.

"This is so typical." Mark sighed, walking past Maureen and into the main living space of the flat. Maureen followed him, making sure to keep her distance.

"Mark, I –" Maureen started, but Mark cut her off.

"Maureen, what–I…You just…" He was at a loss for words for a moment, racking his mind for the right thing to say. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before continuing.

"Why? What is your problem? You just…You go off whenever you want, and I'm here, at home, waiting for you! And when you come home, smelling like alcohol and another man's cologne I don't say anything! But I mess up once – once! And you just…And now…" He sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping after letting go. He looked down at the floor, too ashamed to look at her. "Why?" Mark asked quietly, glancing at her.

Maureen stood there, looking him in the face. Her shoulders were squared, her back erect, a blank look on her face. Finally, she licked her lips and shook her head.

"Well," She began, drawing a breath in. "I guess because I've never had anyone really cheat on me before." Mark raised his eyebrows, egging her on to continue.

"I trust you Mark. I really do. And I never expected that from you. You're just…different. From all of the other guys I've seen. You always seemed like the kind of guy that would never do that sort of thing." She looked at the floor, her eyes looking distant.

"I was stupid. It was one mistake – I mean, it's huge, but I think I overreacted." She glimpsed at Mark. "I could've at least stayed and heard you out. I'm really, really sorry, Mark. And I hope you can forgive me." As Maureen finished, she looked up at him, her eyes connecting with his. He studied her eyes.

"Are you really sorry?" He asked, not sure if he should accept her apology. Maureen looked into his eyes and shook her head slowly.

"I'm really, truly sorry, Mark." She said, stepping closer to him.

He considered her words for a moment, looking from her, to the floor and back and forth. Biting his lip, he drew in a deep breath.

"Alright, Maureen. I forgive you." He said quietly and slowly.

Maureen let out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding and smiled big. She came closer and wrapped her arms tightly around Mark's neck, bringing their bodies together in a warm embrace. Sighing, Mark gave into the hug, wrapping his arms around her waist. He breathed in the scent of her lilac shampoo. But when he breathed in, all he smelled was vanilla. He opened his eyes and scrunched his brow.

'_Probably just a friend's shampoo. It's not like I've never had to use Roger's or Collins' before._'

When Maureen drew back, she looked him deep in the eye, her face inches from his.

"What's her name?" She asked, grinning. Her face was slowly creeping towards his.

"Annalise. Annalise Cynthia Cohen." He answered quietly, looking back at Maureen.

"Beautiful." She breathed, finally locking lips with Mark. Mark simply moaned in reply, closing his eyes and giving into the exchange. As their kisses became more fervent, Maureen ran her hands through his short hair, causing it to stick up more on end than usual.

"Maureen!" Mark moaned and she kissed his jaw. He ran his hands down her back, stopping at the small and pressing her closer to himself, feeling the need to have her body pressed against his. She he guided her lips back to his and kissed him with more passion he had in him, letting Mark run his fingers along the base of her neck and hairline, grasping lightly. Mark broke the kiss and started to caress her neck with small kisses, nibbling every so often. Maureen breathed in and moaned.

"I'm breaking up with you."

Mark thought he'd heard wrong. He stopped kissing her neck and snapped his head back, looking up at her.

"What??" He exclaimed, his kiss-swollen mouth slightly agape, his eyes wide and brow knit. His breathing was labored as he stared with incredulity at Maureen.

"I'm breaking up with you. I've met someone else." She was far too calm for his. She bit her lip and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

There was a deafening silence as the two stared at each other. Mark ran a hand through his disheveled hair. Finally, after a few more moments he let out a light laugh.

"That's who you've been staying with for the past three weeks, isn't it? You've been seeing some other man on the side." He shook his head, a mad, angry frown playing across his lips. He looked at Maureen, who just looked pained. When she opened her mouth to say something, Mark shook his head and took a step back, letting go of her body.

"What's his name? Is it someone I know?" He asked, his voice so quiet and defeated and daring to break, Maureen shut her mouth and looked at him with even more pained eyes. "Well?"

"Jo– "

"Joe?? Joe Who?" He started raising his voice, not aware of the sleeping infant in the other room.

"Joanne."

Mark stood there, stunned. Jo_anne_? A…Girl? He simply blinked at her. Maureen continued. "Her name is Joanne Jefferson. She's a lawyer. You'd probably like her if you met her. I've been seeing her for a while now, and…I don't know, but…I get this feeling every time I see her." Mark simply put his hand to his mouth and breathed heavily, not trying not to yell or thrash out. A girl?

"You're leaving me…for…a _girl_?" He breathed out, his voice cracking. This was heavy blow; he felt like had gotten beat on his chest with a heavy plank of wood. A thousand thoughts were going through his mind at once.

"Yes." Maureen said quietly. "But, I still want to be friends best friends with you. That's why I made sure there was nothing between us; I want to end on good terms!" She said it all quickly, but cut herself off, seeing Mark's horrified expression at her.

"Mark, I–" Maureen reached out to touch his cheek, but he swiftly turned his face away and stepped back more, looking at her with wide, harsh eyes. She sighed thickly and nodded.

"I'll be back the next couple days to get my stuff. I'm moving in with her." Mark closed his eyes and swallowed, attempting to block everything about her out of his mind.

"I guess this… is goodbye. I do still love you, you know." She said, almost as if it were a question. Hearing the last part of that, Mark bit his bottom lip and shook his head. Turning on his heal, he walked back into Roger's room, running a hand through his hair before closing the door quietly behind him.

* * *

_:)_


End file.
